


Half This Far

by boxofwonder



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/F, Found family!, Gen, Gentle hints of Ann/Shiho/Makoto that aren't enough to warrant a tag yet, Tattoos are hackable and Futaba will get them someday, The rebel girl space pirate party of your dreams, Thieves! In Space!!, friendship!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 14:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13615401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofwonder/pseuds/boxofwonder
Summary: Makoto and her wayward crew - once humble thieves - have grown accustomed to accidentally ending up enemies of state to the Emperor himself, outrunning his forces by a hair's breadth on a ship held together by willpower alone.But every precarious balance is shattered when the chance to save another life tempts the girls - and plunges them into something bigger than themselves.





	Half This Far

**Author's Note:**

> We've gone way too fast for way too long / And we were never supposed to make it half this far

The world, for the first time in this endless, endless battle, went quiet.

Shaking, damp, Makoto’s hands fell away from the console. She took a breath, and another. “All in one piece?” she asked, too tired to keep the disbelief from seeping into her voice. Sinking back against her seat, she barely found the strength to comm Haru and ask: “Ship still running?”

“Purring,” Haru replied, a tired smile in her voice. “We sustained no damage that will incapitate us, but I would recommend docking soon so I can get out there and check the hull, as well as run a complete check.”

Her calm soothed Makoto’s ragged nerves, and she allowed herself a small smile. “Of course.” 

“Considering the Hunters were too terrified to go after us through this maze - well done, captain.” 

Well. They had just made it through a deep magenta path - those that held certain death, or as close as one could come to it. And her crew had cheated it once more.

Pride hummed in her chest like the rumble of the Panther - a ship name Makoto had vehemently objected to, but had secretly embraced a long time ago.

The Red Panther had taken away some damage - navigating around a cluster of asteroids had taken all of Makoto’s skills as a pilot, and Futaba’s skill as a navigator, and that had not counted in the rock-spitting molluscs living in the craters. Some of them had hit home, and their shields were weak and patched to begin with.

But they’d do what they had to to escape the bounty hunters dispatched by the Emperor. 

And they’d made it.

They had. 

At last, a moment of - 

“ _ Captain, _ ” Futaba said tightly, her voice low from how hard she was clamping down on obvious fear.

Makoto prayed, with all her being, that it was a terrible, terrible joke. “Futaba?”

“I think there’s -”

A wave of power crackled across Makoto’s skin. The ship lurched so suddenly, Makoto could hear Ann yelp through the wall. Her hands were on the console immediately, but Makoto had no control - could do nothing but hang in her belts as they veered off-course, useless, a dead weight at the outskirts of a zone that was still tinged violet. 

They were lucky there was nothing in their path, and when they finally slowed to a stop, Makoto pinched the bridge of her nose.

She accessed the open network of the ship. “Crew, all well?”

“What the hell!” Of course Ann answered first. “I was still strapped in, but I think Haru is -”

“I’m fine,” Haru’s voice sounded, drowning her out, but she would sound exactly as calm as she did now if a pipe had jammed through her guts. 

“Are you?” Makoto asked with urgency. 

Shiho cut in. “She’s bleeding, but it’s minor. I’m patching her up.”

Okay. Makoto exhaled. “Make sure Haru is taken care of first, then someone please check if we can somehow get this Panther leaping again.”

“You do love the na-” Ann began to cheer, and Makoto cut off the comm line.

She turned to Futaba instead, whose eyes were wide, knuckles white as she stared down at her dingy display. 

“Futaba?” Makoto asked gently, but insistently. 

She had spent a long time perfecting the tone of voice that would lure Futaba back from her winding thoughts. 

A shudder went through her, and she raised her head. “There’s a lifeform here. I mean, one with  _ actual _ brainwaves to pick up.”

So this was an attack. Makoto loathed to do this, but she pulled another C-shot closer. Liquid life, so to speak. It’d keep her running to some extent for another twelve hours. She was on her third, so after this, she would pretty much pass out for however long it would take for her body to recover.

Twelve hours to get her girls to safety. It sounded like so much, but seeing they were wanted in half the galaxy, and trouble found them over and over, it was way too little. 

“I picked up on it and was  _ about  _ to ask you to stop and check on the emergency signal it’s sending out, when the ship was stopped for us.”

An attack. 

Makoto gasped as she jammed the shot into her arm, felt her heart lurch uncomfortably. The first thirty seconds were the worst, her body convulsing in the seat. It was blinding light and pressure in her veins, and then she took a breath.

Her head felt clearer, her body fooled into thinking it could keep running. Along space captains, it was pretty much an open secret that half were addicted. Makoto liked to think that if she got the chance to sleep like a normal person, she’d never reach for another shot again. 

Alas, life had not let her check that theory in a while. There was always  _ something.  _ Always some disaster. Though this time around, it had been worse. Every day more, they barely scraped by, escaped by a hair’s breath. A magenta path …

What would it be next? 

But no, no. It was all about the present. One cycle after the next. “That means we need to get our shields back up as fast as -”

“No.” Futaba shook her head, wildly, short hair bouncing and revealing a flash of silver. “ _ No,  _ I don’t think that’s it. Fire would have been opened already, right? Makoto, I think someone may be in trouble …”

Makoto wished she was a proper captain who would not be swayed by her name being used rather than her title, but her crew was family, and Futaba especially. 

“It sounds like a trap,” she reminded her navigator. 

“But there’s obviously no lasting damage. Communications are running. It didn’t  _ wreck  _ the ship. It just forced us to stop. Stop long enough to -”

“Hang on.” Makoto tapped her headpiece to life - realising that, indeed, the shockwave had only affected the engine. The emergency battery had already flared back to life, bringing the light back, and at the very least, Futaba’s map. And communications hadn’t been disrupted at all.

“Haru?” Makoto asked softly. 

“Captain!” called Haru, full of spirit. “I’m on it.”

Thank the vastness. If Haru wasn’t feeling well, Shiho would have restrained her if needed. Haru being fine and working on it meant this issue would be solved in no time. Hopefully. “Any lasting damage?”

“So far, nothing. But I cannot be sure until I get deeper into this. I’m trying to bring it back up now.”

“How long until we know whether our ship gets back to life?”

Makoto could feel Futaba’s anxious gaze bear into her. She grit her teeth. They were still in dangerous territory, if there was any chance to get her girls out fast, and unharmed -

“At least a quarter cycle.”

More than enough time to risk a stupid rescue mission, then. “Do your best. Think you and Futaba can handle it with Shiho’s guidance?”

From obviously across the room, Makoto could hear Ann’s faint voice on Haru’s channel: “Captain, we headed somewhere?”

“Tell Ann I need her help, yes? I’m counting on you, Haru.” 

“I won’t let you down,” Haru promised. From her, it meant they’d be out of here in no time. She buzzed out, but Makoto could hear the moment she relayed the message to Ann, because she whooped again. Ever the adrenaline junkie. 

“Captain -” Futaba began, a million unvoiced words in her wide-eyed expression. Apologies, pleas, and a wish to be able to accompany her. 

“I need you here,” she said firmly. Makoto had begun taking Futaba on missions - small missions off the ship, harmless missions. But she wasn’t about to risk her life like this. “Support Haru. Get the ship back.”

Futaba pressed her lips together. “Got it, captain.”

Her eyes were brighter now, more awake. Her cheeks rounder, and her body stronger. Futaba’s hair touched her shoulders, had grown long enough to hide the socket at the base of her neck. But sometimes when Makoto looked at her she could still feel the phantom sensations of forcing her hands into a gel basin, yanking tube after tube out of a malnourished body, cradling an almost weightless person in her arms as she ran, ran,  _ ran _ , alarms blaring. 

The fact that Futaba had not only survived, but learned to live after being used as a living database had taught Makoto about miracles. She would rather step into fire herself than ever, ever risk Futaba’s life. 

But maybe, maybe there was someone like Futaba out there who needed someone who’d risk everything to grant them life. How could Makoto stand uselessly aside when such things happened in every unlit corner of the universe?

“Map a safe path to Tae just in case, alright?”

The tightness vanished from Futaba’s expression. Having clear tasks was the simplest way to soothe her anxiety. “Of course, captain!” she called, saluting. She spun back around, fingers tapping a staccato rhythm against her banged up display. Makoto really ought to get her something proper for once, but at the same time what Futaba managed to achieve with that old thing was already scary enough - Makoto didn’t need her to get bored and hack into Emperor Shido’s private library to mess with his head.

(Futaba had explained how she’d get there the last time Makoto had lifted her hair and cleaned out the socket at her neck, the one place nobody but her was allowed to touch, and ever since Makoto had lived in a very unsettling fear of ever seeing Futaba with the means to cause actual damage. At least she understood why freeing Futaba had turned them from small-scale thieves into hunted enemies of the Empire.)

Makoto rose to her feet, running another check on her suit. She’d never changed out of combat gear in the first place, so all she still did was strap in her ranged weapons and flex her fists in her gloves. One tap away from humming to life with a force field strong enough to take on anything. Almost anything.

Deep breath. “Coordinates, Futaba?”

“Transferred.”

“Thank you. Any anomalies?  _ Other  _ than what we’re already experiencing?”

“Seems the energy is contained in a small vessel. It doesn’t seem to be moving, or have any energy of its own. The emergency signal has gone quiet. Be ... “ She cut off, her business voice melting away. Futaba sounded scared. “Be careful, Makoto, okay?”

“When am I not?” Makoto asked, earning herself a glare. 

“When are you ever? It’s the reason I’m alive, but still! Come back in one piece, and bring that annoying Ann, too, or I’ll hack your comm to always play that terrible jingle they play before every damn Emperor newsfeed!”

“You would not dare,” Makoto shot back, playful, hoping to take Futaba’s mind off things. Before Makoto would let anything happen to Ann, she’d die herself. Not that that was the plan, either. They’d be back in one piece, no matter how this rescue mission went. 

“Oh, I would. Watch me. I’ll even find a bunch of terrible remixes. I’ll make it a whole album. It will  _ haunt your dreams. _ ”

Makoto ruffled her hair, making Futaba hiss and swat at her. “Maybe I’ll work on it right now! Bet I could get it to accompany you on your mission!”

Gurgling with laughter, Makoto felt a whole lot more at ease. No, she wouldn’t risk this. Never. She loved it too much, everything she’d built up. If the Emperor would chase them to the edge of the universe and beyond, they’d always outrun him. 

Futaba would never be used again, Haru would never be held small again. And Ann and Shiho would never, never be treated as property again. 

Makoto would protect them all, to her last breath. 

The door to the command room screeched open, and as if called, Ann walked in with a flourish. Her very presence seemed to expand in the room, a wide smile on her face that hadn’t needed energy shots to make her buzz with energy. “I heard there’s some ass to kick!”

She’d traded her fishnets for her own combat suit, shimmering with a hint of red like the colour she’d given their ship along, hiding the colourful, shifting tattoos winding around her body. Only a small blossom of a vine rose from the collar touching her neck, curling up behind her ear.

She’d tied her hair into a high ponytail and had her weapons already strapped to her back. 

“Those aren’t the words I’d choose,” Makoto replied calmly, trying not to be affected by her crewmates appearance. It became harder the more tired she was. “I’m not sure yet whether it’s a rescue mission, or whether we’re headed right into a trap. Are you up for the task?”

Ann pouted for her even asking. “ _ Born _ ready, captain. I got your back!”

She truly did. To think that once, Makoto had cursed a fate that had brought her together into a prison cell with a personality sparking with so much air-headed enthusiasm. They’d both been at each other’s throat, blaming the other for their predicament.

It was Shiho who’d busted them out, in the end, and Makoto had sworn that the second her feet hit solid ground on a planet that didn’t know her name, she’d get as far away as she ever could from that Ann.

To think these days Ann’s promise to have her back would make it easier to breathe … 

Life played that way. 

“Ann!” Futaba complained, breaking the spell. “Where’s your team pride?!”

Ann turned on the spot, spreading her arms wide and striking a pose as she presented the red bandana that tied her ponytail. “Satisfied? Don’t judge me before you haven’t seen all of me!”

Makoto’s own was tied around her biceps, while Futaba preferred to wear hers around the neck, where she could hide in it when she needed to. Haru usually kept it under her jumpsuit, worried to get grease all over it - yet, somehow, it always ended up a little dirty anyways. 

That small detail always made Makoto smile. 

“I guess I can accept it,” Futaba told her, nose in the air. “Now you better bring captain back or I’ll tap into your tattoos make all of them spell ‘I suck’ for the rest of your life!”

“Excuse me!” Ann stomped her foot. “Has no one ever told you not to pick a fight with a girl holding huge guns?!”

“Girls,” Makoto said mildly, before they could dissolve into bickering. “The mission?”

“Right, right!” Ann laughed, slinging her weapons across her back again so she could rub her neck. “Riiiight captain, that.” 

What a crew. 

A small notification informed her that her suit was indeed safe for outside wear. Good timing. “Did you check your suit?”

Ann pulled a face. “Oops!” So much for her being reliable. Disgruntled as if having read that thought on Makoto’s face, Ann programmed the check, muttering: “I’m  _ on  _ it. Jeez.”

“Airhead.” Shiho strut into the room, her hair tied back in the same fashion, combat gear and weapons in place. She raised her chin in defiance, hands on her hips, the red bandana around her wrist burning like a declaration of war. “Captain? Where are we headed?”

For a moment, Makoto’s gaze lingered on the curl of ink at her neck, behind her ear, mirroring Ann’s. 

Blinking, she yanked her concentration back where it belonged. She was the captain. She called the shots. “I need you here, Shiho. Someone has to be ready to -”

“To what?” Shiho’s dark eyes were burning. “Take over if you don’t come back? That’s why I’ll go with you. I’ll haul your asses back if I have to. Heading into a mission like that in your state -”

“I need you to get us out if anything goes wrong,” she said, voice strong, certain. “I know this is a risk. I trust you to monitor us and help get this ship in gear.”

Shiho faltered, the breath shivering from her, eyes cutting away. “Doesn’t mean you couldn’t stay behind and do the ground work.”

“I have a better feeling knowing you in charge of potentially saving our skins.”

Shiho sighed, a surprisingly soft noise. “I hate it when you go all rational captain on me.”

Ann laughed, dissolving the tension by bumping their shoulders together. “You secretly  _ love  _ it. Didn’t you tell me just yesterday -”

“Ann.  _ Shut it,  _ or you will suffer -”

Makoto cleared her throat as she heard the telltale confirmation that Ann’s suit was fully functioning, and ready for action. She had to stop  _ this  _ bickering in its tracks, too, if they were ever supposed to get anywhere.

“Ladies, everyone in the clear? Are we ready to get started?”

Three voices echoed back to her - with Futaba being half.distracted, and Haru no doubt waist-deep in booting up the engine. It was gritty, manual labour, so Makoto didn’t care to disturb her. “Good. We only have one blaster. Ann, stay close.”

With a delighted noise, of course she did, slinging an arm arond Makoto’s hip. “You know I always like to stay close to you,” Ann said with a wink.

“Not the time, Ann,” Makoto replied, impressed how unaffected her voice sounded. 

“Behave, babe,” Shiho cut in from where she was settling in the captain’s chair with a sigh. She stroked the humble armrests. “Love and hate it everytime.”

“No time like the present,” Ann proclaimed, squeezing Makoto. “Ready, captain?”

As ready as she’d ever be. In lieu of a reply, she activated her suit, feeling it wrap tightly around her skin, cutting of her air. The shield around her head was swirling with colour, unbearable second by unbearable second. Thanks to the shot in her blood, Makoto felt her pulse hammer in her throat, her ears, could feel it in her eyes.

Then the pressure relaxed, and with a soft hiss, the oxygen supply kicked in. Her vision cleared. 

She took a deep breath. Next to her, Ann was equally equipped, her face half-obscured behind the iridiscent shield around it. The comm crackled to life, the only connection, as locked into their gear as they were. “Let’s go, then.”

“Be careful,” Shiho reminded them. “I’m sending you out in 3 - 2 - 1 -”

With a jolt, and tightly wound together, they plunged into the unforgiving depths of space itself. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most self-indulgent thing I've touched in a while. And it has way more plot than it ought to have. Let's see where this journey takes our crew, shall we?
> 
> I'd estimate 30k for this fic, but I'm notoriously known to be terrible at estimating. Hope I didn't jinx it, heh.


End file.
